NEIN
by GingerDixie
Summary: We had such potential...such promise...The REAL story of 9! Rated T for language, Candlejack, Tinker Toy monsters, and a bumbling n00b of a stitchpunk. WARNING: THIS STORY WAS WRITTEN PURELY OUT OF BOREDOM. I am SO going to hell for this.
1. Part I

**NEIN. (a 9 parody)**

**Part I**

_We had such potential...such promise..._

_But that damn Chancellor stole all of my Tinker Toys...and my Lincoln logs..._

_But no matter...plushies are so much better. So, 9, I am creating you. _

_Our world is ended...life must go on..._

The old, three story building had been abandoned for over 50 years; the wood growing warped and dusty with age as the smoke and debris from the Plushie-Tinker war settled upon the ruined landscape. The country of Germany had never been the same since Chancellor von Shmuck had unleashed a terrible machine upon the masses...a machine with a name worse than Candlejack..so terrible people have dissapeared jus

A light evening breeze blew through the open window of the highest floor of the house, blowing aside printouts of video game cheats and pages of porno magazines to reveal a shiny gold device, engraved with strange alchemical symbols and containing four tresses, one of which was tied to the wrist of a sock monkey dangling lifelessly in the device. The plushie too swayed in the wake of the breeze, it's blank optics catching briefly the grungy light from outside.

This doll, aptly named 9 (The Scientist had originally said "NEIN", which was the German word for "no", when asked if he had wanted to make a 9th sock monkey...but his assistants were even older than he was, so...) was the 9th in a series of plushies that seemingly contained the answer to settling the twenty-year long feud between the Scientist and von Schmuck...the one that was to be most knowledgeable. He probably even had the cure for cancer in that processor of his...

Suddenly, the cord supporting 9 snapped, and the doll tumbled to the ground, hitting into every single one of the Scientist's failed inventions on the way down: The Noob Stick, the Hurr-Durrifier, and the Look-a-Shiny-O-Matic; before landing directly beneath the device...on his head.

Goddamnit.

Agonizing moments passed before the doll opened his optics, blinking once, twice from the light that assaulted his sensitive photo receptors (and not to mention his noggin hurt rather badly). As he began to sit up, his hand unconsciously went up to his optics...and to a noob, a hand was indeed a rather fascinating thing. 9 sat there and played with his fingers for quite some time, absolutely mesmerized by how well they caught the sunlight through the slats in the closed window next to the desk, before another gust of wind blew in, rustling more of the Scientist's important documents below.

Curious, 9 waved bye-bye with his other hand and peered over the side of the desk, trying to puzzle out the source of such an irritating noise that was interrupting his play time. However, the sock monkey was absolutely horrified to see the shriveled, dead body of the Scientist lying on the floor...facedown in hundreds of issues of Playboy and TV Guides. He recoiled, hitting his head on the Noob Stick one more time before he noticed a small, shiny object next to the device where he was born.

_Oooh, look,_ 9 couldn't help but think. _I haven't the slightest clue what that is...so let me just pull it out for safe keeping! _And so he did; and the Talisman came free without so much as a protest. 9 stared at it for a while, running his fingers over the copper surface (and telling his new hand-buddy all about it), before he looked up to the closed window just above the desk. _Maybe someone out there can tell me what this is..._

It was very difficult for 9 to walk at first...the motion of his leg was a little bit too much for him to think about; especially when he had to walk over those pesky pornos (though he couldn't say he felt discoraged when he fell down). However, with encouragement from Mr. Hand (and a little bit of his own BRAIN POWERZ), soon 9 was standing in front of the shades, which were quivering from the breeze fighting to get inside. He cocked his head to the side, using both of his hands to push out on the door hinges...and braced himself for what he might find beyond the Scientist's lair...


	2. Part II

**Part II**

It was, indeed, hell on Earth.

Even such noobs like 9 could not argue about how much Germany really sucked right now; the amount of scenery gorn that accompanied his great epiphany was enough to make anyone, even 9, recoil in horror. There was, literally, nothing left. Buildings sat in clouds of gray rubble, cars lay smashed and broken into lampposts and mailboxes. A rusty fire hydrant lay on it's side, the exposed pipes dripping with dark-tinged water. The Schmatzi party flag hung from almost every single building that remained upright, but they were all peppered with bullet holes and singed until the symbol in the center was almost unrecognizable...which was fine by 9. Surely the Chancellor could have gotten more creative than a middle finger for the Party logo.

Suddenly, something shiny flashed in 9's peripheral, and he eagerly turned toward the sound, hoping to see someone like him. However, as he spun his entire body toward the source he ended up throwing himself off-center, until he was dangling from the third-story ledge of the Scientist's abode. The noob called for help; again and again, until he felt rather hoarse in the back of his figurative throat; however, not one single sock monkey came to his aid. His arm was starting to hurt and he felt he couldn't scream anymore, and his noobish head hung in the most epic "sadface" that a plushie could make. Life was really going to suck.

He hung there for two hours, singing to himself a melancholy little tune (Row row row your boat, gently down the stream...), when suddenly, 9 realized that his singing sounded a little funny. He reached up to his throat with Mr. Hand, feeling for any vibration as he continued to sing...but nothing happened. He yelled...but there was still no vibration. That was when the noob finally figured out why no one had come to help him...he had no voice.

_Well then, I've got to find someone to fix that!_ he thought brightly to himself, trying to twist around and find some sort of foothold in the crumbling facade of the house...but he couldn't even walk straight yet...so instead he ended up falling three stories down...smack into something that let out a soft "Oomph!"

When 9 finally came to, he found himself sprawled over something rough and scratchy; almost like the burlap that made up his own skin. His back, unfortunately, had landed on something rather hard, and was aching rather badly from his fall. He sat up, rubbing the sore, throbbing area as someone suddenly spoke up behind him.

"9...is that really you?"

Startled, 9 jumped up almost immediately, hitting into a long, silver pole that jutted up from some sort of unrecognizable metal object, which 9 proceeded to pull out and wield in front of him as a weapon.

"Wait! I'm a frie-"

Before the newcomer could reply, 9 was upon him, beating him mercilessly with the metal rod as his pained screams grew louder with each impact. 9 closed his eyes and flailed with the stick, his nerves spiking every time he felt the rod impact the newcomer's skin with a sickening _thud_. Finally, after several minutes of beatings, 9 finally stopped, panting from the exertion and tossing the rod aside before looking upon his "assailant"...and realizing he was another sock monkey.

"Remarkable!" 2 managed to croak out, adjusting his badly dented hat and sitting up, his mouth seeping an eerie, green glowing substance. "Simply remarkable..." He slowly made his way to his feet, adjusting his shoe-lace opening as he inspected 9 through the cracked lens that swung in front of his hat.

"So much thought..." the old plushie wondered out loud, taking one of 9's hands as the noob stared at him with a look of utter confusion. He just beat the shit out of this pedophile and now he was standing here, muttering under his breath about how his hands were made...and how firm and smooth they were...

"Carved wood...molded copper," 2 chuckled, patting the top of 9's hand, easing it back to the noob's side and getting a little bit too close to his zipper fly in the process. "You truly are the Savior we have been waiting for, aren't you, 9?" 2 chuckled, gazing with his brass-rimmed optics into 9's face. "...And a handsome one at that."

9 quirked a brow, gesturing to his throat and mouthing words, hoping that this old geezer could help him with his...speech deficiency. _I can't speak._

"You can't speak?" 2 repeated, his face falling into a serious frown as he eyed 9's zipper, finally pulling it down and looking at several workings inside...until his eyes caught hold of the Talisman.

"What...is that?"

9 looked down, a little uncomfortable with the old plushie's prodding around, but all this did was oblige 2 to stick both hands into his fly, removing the Talisman and studying the symbols on the front.

"6...6 is always drawing this..." 2 muttered under his breath, before breaking into such a big smile any hope 9 had for 2 being straight immediately vanished.

"This is smashing! Smashing!" 2 chuckled, hugging the Talisman to his chest. "Granted I haven't a clue what it is...but I'm sure 6 can be sure to tell us!" 9 offered a half-smile, however, he continued to motion to his throat as 2 proceeded to do a rather well-rehearsed Irish jig around the metal heap. 9's face fell as he watched 2; to the point where the older sock monkey finally stopped in his tracks.

"Oh, right...a voicebox. Of course son," He smiled.

"Right this way."


	3. Part III

**Part III**

2 led 9 to a certain area of the Emptiness that was obscured by a pile of burnt-out cars, rolled over on their sides and even completely inverted in the panic that had resulted from the humans trying to get as far away from Von Schmuck's Germany as they could. 9 looked into each of the cars that they passed, some of them containing sleepy people still bent over the wheels, their wispy, ash-coated hair blowing with the dust in the wind. 2 hummed as he ducked under a flipped vehicle, making his way into a small clearing that contained another plushie (one that looked rather like those people sleeping in their cars), a box of matches, and several cylindrical devices that caught our favorite noob's eyes immediately. As 2 began another verse about brilliantine and dime cigars, 9 carefully snuck away and snatched up a shiny, wrapping both of his hands around the bottom of the cylinder and holding it at arm's length...which when you looked at it, made the look from the front rather awkward...

"Alright, son, here I have something I...oh." 2 blinked when he saw 9 holding the cylinder, his optics shrinking a bit. "Ah...um...well. I can see you're...rather excited to...get started on this, then," 2 chuckled, twitching his finger in a "come hither" gesture. "Come on, son...let's get you wired."

9's face broke into an enormous smile at 2's last words, and he ran forward with the cylinder still at his hips...much to the dismay of 2. He leapt out of the way to avoid getting rammed with such a large object, looking up and adjusting his hat...just in time to see 9 nearly hit into a wall with the bullet still at his crotch.

"NO!"

He stopped a split second before ramming into the concrete curb, and 2 hobbled over as quickly as he could, gently taking the bullet and setting it beside them.

"Some things...are better left where they lie..." he muttered cryptically, and 9 nodded his apology.

"Right...anyway," 2 continued, offering a small smile up at 9. "Drop your fly, boy. I have a new voicebox for you."

The sock monkey did as he was told, and once again he felt relieved yet at the same time violated as 2 rooted around his inner workings, jolting every now and then as the elder plushie touched wires together. "Almost there..." 2 muttered. "Try...try talking now."

"Mdrrrrrmmmpppf?"

"Once more..." _ZAP._

"Deerrmmmpph?"

"Almost there..."

"..."

"...aaaaannnnddd..."

"BIIIIIIIIIIRD." 9 suddenly cried, so loudly that 2 nearly pissed himself and fell backwards into a wheel well of a fallen car. "Heavens above, son!" 2 cried out in alarm, brushing the dust off of his arms. "No need to yell...but at least...that should do the trick." He chuckled as 9 zipped up his fly. "Now...to get this back to 6..."

"Are...are we alone?" 9 asked, speaking in the quieter manner that 2 had suggested. The older sock monkey looked up, pausing for a moment, before clapping 9 on the shoulder.

"No...no. There are many others..."

9 furrowed a brow, starting to ask exactly what 2 meant, but just then, a rustle could be heard somewhere behind the cars, and 2 perked up immediately, motioning for him to be quiet. "9...find somewhere to hide...and stay absolutely still," he whispered, motioning in a general direction in which he expected him to go. As 9 began to inch away, 2 turned a crank on his leprechaun hat and lowered a snuff over the candle flame glowing there, then reaching back to pick up a double-bladed spear. As 2 began to take more and more precautions, 9 grew more tense, peeking out from behind the metal drum where he was hiding, only to be shooed back by 2.

"Go on...get in the can..."

The noob nodded but did not comply, and held his metaphorical breath as the two waited in tense silence.

Then, the Beast attacked.

9 cried out in alarm as a monster made of kitty bones and Tinker Toys flashed out from behind one of the cars, its kitty fangs bared and a single red optic glowing in an empty eye socket. 9 dove behind the can (not quite trusting to be inside it with 2 so closely by) as 2 stabbed forward with the spear, catching one of the Beasts claws and deflecting the blow. The creature roared, swiping 2's spear out of his hand and picking him up in his mouth, chewing on him before throwing him into a fender. 9 thought he could hear a muffled song coming from the Cat Beast's mouth as he closed in on 2 again...

_He is my fluffy puppy,_

_My pretty little puppy,_

_I shall pet him, I shall love him..._

_And I'll feed him and call him George!_

It was quite catchy, but somewhere the sock monkey realized his friend was in danger, and he quickly picked up a small stone and threw it at the Tinker Toy beast. It roared and turned, catching 9 in it's red optic...then closing in for the kill.

This time 9 did get in the can, backing up against the wall as the Cat Beast stuck his paw inside the can, his claws scraping only inches in front of 9's optics. A frustrated growl sounded from outside, and the claws slowly started to retract...for a second, 9 was almost relieved it was leaving. But Tinker Toys are smarter than that...the Cat Beast was suddenly back again, using its teeth and both of its paws to widen the hole...trying to get at his precious Jimmy...

"HEY, ASSWIPE."

Both 9 and the Cat Beast turned, alarmed that 2 had shouted such a thing, and 9's eyes widened when he saw 2 standing there...visibly hurt but with 2 bullets strapped to his back Rambo-style and half of a Barbie doll smacking his butt. "Why don't you finish what you started...with me!" He reared his arm back to throw another pebble, shaking in fear as the kitty came closer, seemingly sizing him up with his optic.

"MROOOW!"

The Cat Beast closed its jaws around 2, cutting his bullets off and piercing the Barbie doll through the chest in the process. "Call me..." a staticy, female voice said in reply, and the Cat Beast looked down briefly, catching the glint of the talisman in its eye. It picked it up and unceremoniusly dropped it in its chest cavity, loping away and singing a new song:

_Mommy I got a Georgie,_

_A pretty little Georgie..._

_He's a old and crusty plushie,_

_But HE'S SO FLUFFY, I WANNA DIE._


	4. Part IV

**Part IV**

"2!"

Upon seeing the older doll stolen by the singing Tinker Toy monster, 9 quickly burst from the inside of the can and gave chase with his dorky, unsteady run...after all, he had only been alive for a few hours. It's not like everytime someone wakes up from 50 years of sleeping some weird old pedophile is taken by a giant monster. However, the kitty beast proved to be a fast foe, and little by little, the noob's speed decreased. As 9 began to slow, he also noticed the fact that his shoulder had been ripped in the attack...something that hadn't occurred to him until right now...when it hurt really bad. His trot turned to a walk...then a stagger...until eventually, the noob fell on his face, passed out from the pain in his shoulder.

Fail.

However, much to 9's luck...he wasn't completely alone. Somewhere, in a watchtower far, far away, someone saw him fall; and this stalker...I mean sock monkey...decided to go and help him. After much careful, covert sneaking, the sock monkey had made his way out into the Emptiness to 9's side, and after assessing the damage done to his arm, hefted him over his shoulder. "Don't worry, 9," the stalker soothed. "I'll fix you up...just you wait..."

When 9 finally came to, his vision was rather blurry; he couldn't make anything out beyond a few dangling, silver objects over his head and faint, orange light. The air was slightly tinged with the smell of oil, and nearby on a decrepit, old radio, Flogging Molly was playing in the background. 9 blinked a few more times, hoping to clear his vision up a bit...when suddenly, a huge, one-eyed figure loomed into view...and with it came a long, silver object pointing right in his face.

"Hold still...I'm almost there..."

"NO!"

Without warning, 9's optics sprang completely open and he grabbed the pointy thing furiously, trying to swing it out of his face before his presumed attacker did anything 9 might be regretting later, screaming all the while. "GET THAT THING OUT OF MY FACE!"

"HEY! 9!" the sock monkey cried, finally letting go of the scissor handles and watching with his single eye as they spun away, finally turning to look at the noob. "What's your problem? I was only trying to help!"

9 sat up, blinking once, twice. His attacker was another sock monkey, like him, only one of his eyes was missing...covered by a thick leather patch. His voice also had that strange, high pitch to it that 9 had previously noticed with 2, and immediately he checked to make sure that this fellow hadn't pulled his zipper down to. He had come to learn that guys with strangely high-pitched voices tended to like pulling his zipper down.

"Y-you were trying to help?"

"Yeah!" The one-eyed sock monkey raised the shiny object again...9 could now see that it was a pair of scissors...and snipped off a piece of red thread that was dangling from his shoulder. "There," the stranger said, satistfied. "Of course, 2 could have done a better job...but still..."

9 perked up at the mention of the older stitchpunk. "...You know 2?"

The one-eyed stitchpunk nodded, opening his mouth to explain...that is, until they heard another voice behind them.

"Keeping secrets from me, I see."

9 blinked, looking around for whoever had interrupted his conversation with the one-eyed doll, but all he heard was fierce whispering somewhere off to the side.

"...8...you buffoon...put on the vinyl..."

"The what?"

"The record, you fool. It is my cue to enter the stage."

"Uuuuh..."

"Just put it on!"

9 quirked a brow, looking over at his healer...he seemed to know what was going on. His head was in his hands and his eyes were closed...9 couldn't quite place his finger on exactly what the expression was, though.

His thoughts were interrupted, however, when a heavy bass beat began to play from the direction where the whispering had been coming from, building up dramatically as an elderly doll flung aside a purple curtain in the corner.

_Pope dooooooll, he enters the rooooom!_

_Pope dooooooll, he walks towards you!_

_He's got a hat, he's got a staff, he's got a big fat...bodyguard!_

_Pope dooooooll!_

9 flinched slightly as the elderly sock monkey (who 9 assumed must be this "Pope Doll") staggered toward them, leaning hard on a staff that seemed to be made up of a long, pointed shaft (9 also assumed that since this world was full of dudes, everything involved the use of long, pointy shafts); a permanent scowl on his leathery, age-worn face. "5...who is this?" The song continued to play in the background for a moment, before 1 finally growled and called over his shoulder. "8, you buffoon! You can shut off the track now!"

Somewhere a record screetched, and 9, the Pope Doll, and 5 were left in silence. After another menacing pause, 5 perked up again, wincing a bit as 1 pushed 9 around so that he could see the number on his backside. "I...I found him...in the Emptiness..."

Apparently this isn't what the Pope Doll wanted to hear, because almost as soon as the reply reached his sound receptors, he let go of 9 and whirled on 5.

"What were you doing out there? You'll lead the Beasts straight back to us!" He wrapped his staff around 5's neck. "How many times have I told you..."

9 raised his hands, interrupting the Pope Doll's reprimand. "That's what took him! 2!" He looked between them anxiously. "They took 2..."

The Pope doll huffed, flicking his hand in 9's direction. "If the Beasts took him, then that's the end of it," he replied haughtily. "We shant waste our time going about to..."

"But we can get him back!"

By this time 5 was looking at 9 with intense interest...the same disturbing look that 2 had given him back in the Emptiness. 9 would have to make a mental note of that... "He's alive?"

Suddenly, there was a low, thumping noise from behind...9 saw the curtain shift again and 5's single optic shrank a bit in horror. The noob tried to tell himself that he wouldn't turn around, but he couldn't help it...however, as soon as he did, he immediately regretted it. Behind them, a large, tan and white giant wielded a large knife in front of him, doing his best to add to his intimidating image. He hoveres slightly behind the Pope Doll...the only one who didn't seem to be affected by the BAMF in his presence.

"It seems that our friend is misguided," the Pope Doll chuckled to the giant, eliciting a grunt in response. "Perhaps I can help him achieve some clarity...PUT THE VINYL BACK ON!"

The big guard saluted and went back behind the curtain, coming out again to stand guard over the Pope Doll as his theme played on the way out.

"Oh yes..." the Pope Doll chuckled as he ushered the noob and 5 forward, grinning at 8's attempts to further intimidate them. "Feel that sub-woofer...and Mr. Acker wanted to cut this bit from the movie...well I showed _him_."

_Don't piss him off, you'll get a smack!_

_He's really strong, for a little sack!_

_Pope dooooool!_

_And Pope doll is noooooooot aaaaammmuuuuuussseeeeed!_


	5. Part V

**Part V**

The gigantic guard, who 9 now knew to be the "8" that Pope Doll kept referring to, ushered the four of them into a rusty, tin pail that was suspended in the air with two thick ropes, both of which were tied to the holes in the sides where the handle had been before and wrapped around a pulley with a crank on the inside of the bucket. 5 and the Pope Doll stepped in first, while 9 (since he was unable to comprehend the complexity of an elevator made of improvised materials) stood outside, staring at the mechanism with his most noobish of faces. Eventually, 8 came behind him and gave him a rough shove into the pail, where he was caught by 5 in a rather private place.

"C-can you not do that?" 9 whispered under his breath as 5 hastily released him.

"Do what?"

"...Feeling me up. It gets very uncomfortable."

"I'm not feeling you up."

9 opened his mouth to retaliate, only to have the pail jerk somewhat as 8 began to turn the crank to the left and lower the group of sock monkeys to the bottom floor of the Pope Doll's sanctuary, and out of fear of falling, 9 grabbed a hold of the sides. 5 followed suit, though one of his hands went very unsubtly to 9's back...he decided not to make a point of this when he noticed the Pope Doll giving the two of them an oddly-creepy smile. _Why is he grinning like that?_ 9 wondered briefly, afraid that the Pope Doll was as...touchy-feely...as 5 was. The last thing he needed was two sock monkeys touching his butt...where was a female when you needed one?

The pail-elevator-dumbwaiter thing finally jerked to a halt and the Pope Doll shoved the two of them aside with his scepter, pushing ahead of 8 as he walked over to a calendar that was propped up against the wall. Several of the dates were crossed out, though the month remained on February, 1917. 8 followed dutifully after his master, and 9 insisted 5 go out after him; not because he wanted to look at the extremely complex idea of a pulley system but because he'd had enough ass-smacking for the 24 hours he'd been alive (not to mention the ones he spent unconscious in 5's workshop...the thought of it made him shudder).

The Pope Doll picked up a stick with a red tip and dipped it into a grate filled with red-hot coals, where it ignited and lit the area all around them...there, 9 could see a few more numbers on the walls (most of which were still crossed off), an ink-splattered piece of paper, and tally marks which were shakily labeled "Homosexual Innuendos"...with a "Before 7" and "After 7" section.

The Pope Doll glanced over at 9, his face now deadly serious as 8 stood at attention nearby, and 5 kept his single-eyed gaze down at the floor. 9 caught his look, and just for a moment he held it there, waiting for the old sock monkey to say anything more.

"When we awoke, it was chaos," The Pope Doll began, motioning to a desolate landscape outside the sanctuary...the same war-torn landscape that 9 had attempted to cross to rescue 2. "Man and machine fought each other with fire...all we were able to do was watch...and wait."

"Eventually, the gunfire was less and less...the agonizing cries of the dying were no longer as audible...eventually, there was nothing left but the Beast."

Pope Doll waved his flaming stick over to the ink-splattered paper tacked up on the wall, which 9 could now see was a crude drawing of the Tinker-Toy monster that had attacked him earlier. He rubbed his newly-repaired arm at the memory of the strange, singing machine...the machine that had taken 2.

"Now," the Pope Doll continued. "We wait, for it too, to sleep."

The stick's flame fizzled out, and there was no other lighting left in the room but the eerie red glow of the coals in the grate, and 9 glanced back at the elderly sock monkey, who had lowered his head dramatically. 8 huffed when he realized that the story was over, and 5 raised his head during the awkward silence that passed.

"I led them here, to safety...we dare not set out, lest the Beast find our abode...and too many have already been lost." Pope Doll raised the charred end of his stick to cross out the number "2"...9 now realized that these were the numbers of the sock monkeys who had supposedly died at the hands of the Tinker Toys.

This time, 9 spoke up. "But..we can still go after him..."

Pope Doll immediately huffed in disgust, waving 9 away with his scepter.

9's brow furrowed...he had been ass-slapped, possibly raped, and gone through a Kitty-Beast attack, for Acker's sake! He didn't do all of this crap just to be holed up with a closet gay, a stuck-up Pope, and his dumb bodyguard! "Why aren't you listening to me?" 9 surged forward, grabbing Pope Doll's shoulder.

Immediately the older sock monkey whirled around, pushing 9's hand from his shoulder. "2 chose his own path!" he retaliated, glaring into 9's optics. "...I suggest you keep from making the same mistake."

9 stared back at the Pope Doll with just as much intensity, clutching his fists as the leader turned to 5.

"Take him to the Watchtower," he commanded, and the one-eyed inventor raised his head in reply. "And make sure that he does not get any more harebrained ideas."


End file.
